Scum
by Nucleophile
Summary: "So you wanna leave home at age 11 to become a Pokemon Master? Well I got news for you kid: not everybody can do that, and the world sure as hell don't revolve around the Pokemon League. Truth is, you'll probably end up like the rest of us: wanderers lookin' to get by, law or no law. World's a sick place, but you're a part of it. So let me ask you again: what makes you any better?"


**I. Risk and Return**

The sun had barely crept above the Viridian treeline and already the center was alight with rampant activity. Not that the place ever was, for lack of a better word, _silent. _Pokemon Centers were open 24 hours by virtue of the variety of services they offered, but today saw a particularly large swell of activity for so early an hour. Beyond the sliding glass doors stretched a wide atrium humming with conversation, while the intercom system belched periodic messages to the bustling staff:

"_Paging Nurse Holly to Ward C... Holly to Ward C..."_ it droned.

Not unlike the lit cigarette in his lazy grasp, Jeff inhaled the scene from his seat by the entrance:from the line of trainers(most of them breeders, by the look of their aprons and work gloves, already stained with the scum of the day's labors) inching its way up to the front desk for immediate healing or further referral, to the intermittent flashes and pops issuing from the balcony above as trainers moved, traded, and swapped their Pokemon about the electronic cloud via the Center's integrated PC system. A hiss of air and the glass doors to his right slid open to admit an over-sized gurney upon which rested a large orange dragonoid, its tail tipped with a pulsing flame, its scaly hide and peachy wing membranes peppered with oozing puncture wounds.

"The flame, you idiots! Watch the tail flame!" a nurse shouted as she fumbled with the IV, loose wisps beach-blonde hair coming undone from the confines of her scrubs as she attempted to drive a large steel needle into the scaly brute's skin all the while keeping pace with the aides as the Charizard was shuttled off towards the emergency ward. Bringing the cigarette to his mouth, Jeff puckered his cheeks and breathed a slow drag, his mud-green eyes lingering on the round contours of her backside a moment too long as he allowed the corners of his mouth to tweak upward.

A sharp pain to his ribs broke his trance.

"Shit! Agh!" he cringed, dropping the cigarette, the ashen tip crumbling upon impact with his shirt, staining it with ugly grey embers as it tumbled down off him and onto the the floor below. "The hell, Amber?"

The redhead in the chair to his left gave a cold shrug, lips pursed, her large grey eyes locked on him as she stretched a long leg out to grind the smoldering butt into the cold vinyl. "No smoking in this facility, _pig_."

Puffing out his chest, Jeff prepared his rebuttal before thinking better of it, deflating back into his chair, shaking his head as he did. "Never again. We're done... Too fuckin' risky."

Her gaze narrowed, lips plumping as she prepared to speak. "You said the same thing two years ago back in Lilycove."

"Yeah, well this time I'm-_We're_ -for sure."

"Oh really?" she replied. "Since when did you ever care about '_we'_?"

Jeff smirked. He loved it when she got jealous. Still, business was business, so-

"Since now?" he asked, driving his face forward before she could react, his thin lips locking with hers. For a fleeting moment, he felt her body stiffen before systematically relaxing. He felt her hands cupping both sides of his face, her nails trailing along the sandpaper of his cheeks, her tongue dancing in line with his, and he knew in that moment he had already won.

"Better?" he asked, pulling away.

She allowed herself a slight smile. "Somewhat..."

He shrugged, "I sure as hell am. Anyway, I'm not just talking about working with Giovanni, I'm talking about leaving organized crime all together. Too risky... too big of a commitment."

"That's what I've been tellin' you for the past three years, and you've been painting it as bullshit ever since."

"Yeah, well maybe I've come to my senses."

"Senses?" she laughed, tucking a stray lock of her shoulder length auburn hair behind her ear as she did. "You know what you sound like? That Chatot we saw in the zoo you took me to back in Sinnoh:'t_otototototototototototototototo_-"

He pressed a playful finger against her mouth. "And you sound like a crazy-ass bitch when you say shit like that."

She smiled mischievously, "_Your_ crazy-ass bitch."

"Damn straight, love. So what if I'm admitting you're right? So what if it took me three years to get to my senses? Better than most men, hm? You're getting your way with a pretty fucking reasonable son-of-a-Bibarel and it only took you three years. Not bad, right? Right?"

"Don't delude yourself," she replied, flipping out her phone. "I've been having my way with you since the day we met."

"Truly."

Another hiss of air as the doors slid open to admit the wail of sirens and a team of aides led by the same blonde nurse from earlier, except this time the patient appeared to be a flame duck creature swathed in a molten hide peppered with oozing puncture wounds- a magmar, if he remembered correctly from school.

"Out of the way! Badly poisoned specimen coming through! IDIOTS! WATCH THE TAIL FLAME!" the nurse's shouts echoed out across the atrium, cutting a line through the hum of conversation before fading away to the emergency ward.

"Bitch." Amber muttered, shaking her head, not looking up from her phone.

Jeff shook his head, chancing an over-the-shoulder glance towards the blonde,"Some pest control company must've bit off more than they could chew with the Beedrill colonies out in the forest...can't really blame 'em though, Caterpie farmers pay through the nose to keep their silk farms safe."

"Viridian and its silk industry..."

Jeff snorted, "And _that_ is exactly the kind of bullshit we have to deal with should we stay with the mob. Remember the time we were sent to rob Silph? Took forty of us! Forty! And even then, place was a shit show. Crying secretaries and HR reps all over the place, and don't get me started on security. I fuckin' lost it when one of the bastards brought a fuckin' Salamence right through the wall. See it's all about risk and return, and sticking my ass out against a class 4 ain't worth all the master balls in the world, something those _fuckers _in upper management don't seem to understand. Always about making a statement and never about logistics..."

"Almost like the bad-guys they have the kids fight in their simulator video games before they leave home."

"Absolutely true, love."Jeff chuckled, hacking a dry cough. "Hell, after all the shit we've seen, I wouldn't be surprised if Giovanni decided to dress us all up in black tights and call us Team Rocket, or some other whacked-out moniker."

Amber nodded, twirling her hair about her index figure. "You're really serious this time, aren't you?"

"Serious as the plague, love."

She swallowed. "And the plan?"

"Been thinking about it for a while, actually," Jeff replied, rubbing the corners of his mouth as he lit another cigarette. A mother two seats down grimaced, readjusting her grip on her baby before strutting off for the front desk. "I say we leave Kanto for Orre, lay low and live honestly. You know, the way us folk are supposed to live, at least until Giovanni's off our trail, that is."

"Orre, hmm?" Amber breathed, staring at the ceiling, her large eyes luminous in the pale glow of the overhead lights. "You must crazy, with the cash we've got, we'd hardly have a living down there- ah!" she gasped as he pulled her towards him.

"Listen, love. I ain't about submit to the system any more than you are. The working life just doesn't suit people like us, right?"

"And the cash?"

He kissed her. "Same way as always, love."

"So a Pokemart?"

He shook his head, "Too risky. Marts are robbed all the time and the bastards consequently see it coming. Remember that one we tried to rob back in Hoenn? The one with the tiny kid with accent we barely could understand? How were we supposed to know the kid was packing a 9 millimeter behind the counter right next to the full heals and scratch tickets? Almost got my head blown off were it not for Ole' Reliable, and don't get me started about how the joint was family owned with grandpa sitting out back with a big-ass Rhydon... Fuck, it was a miracle nobody got killed that day..."

"I don't wanna kill anybody..."

"I don't want to kill anybody either, love. But sometimes you don't have a choice when you put yourself in a situation where it's us or them. Risk and return, remember?"

She cocked an eyebrow. "So what _were_ you thinking?"

"E-Excuse me sir, smoking is prohibited in the his facility," a young aide interjected, locking Jeff in an uncertain gaze.

Rising from his chair, Jeff towered over the boy and placed a rough hand on his shoulder, as if to gauge how much the youngster was shaking. Raising the cigarette in his teeth, the larger man cracked a smile. "My apologies, lad, I'll be sure to toss it."

Amber flashed a sweet smile towards the aide, "good work, now off you go."

So off the youth went.

"This place," Jeff declared, returning to his seat, cigarette in the trash.

"Pardon?" Amber asked, returning her attention toward her companion.

"You were wondering where I was thinking to rob? This place, love."

Amber shook her head knowingly.

"Oh come on, why not this place?" Jeff declared, raising his arms towards the ceiling as he leaned back in his chair. "Who ever robs Pokemon Centers? We'd catch 'em with their pants down. Not even considering the surprise factor, the liabilities are pretty much nonexistent. Any trainer who could be a threat has a party currently in need of medical help, you think battling's really on their mind? Besides, this is Viridian, the worst we'd see is some Youngster with an inflated sense of justice who'd sic his Ratatta on us."

"And the staff-?"

"-are in the business of saving lives and maintaining the PC interface, love. The safe at the back of the Front desk is federally insured; they don't give two shits about somebody taking it. And the aides who work for a measly 45 pokedollars an hour really gonna take a bullet for center? Fuck no! See, I got this idea last time we robbed the mart when you took a shopper hostage."

"Damn straight I did..." Amber grinned wickedly. Jeff smiled, pointing a knowing finger her way.

"Really cut down on the hero factor when someone's life was on the line, huh? That's a smart call."

"Only the smartest..." she growled, licking her lips.

_"Paging Dr. Warren to the Emergency Ward... Dr. Warren to the Emergency Ward.."_the intercom called.

"Let's do it," Amber grinned, pulling a scuffed great ball from her purse. With the smart push of her finger, the container expanded, ready to unleash its contents. "Right here, right now..."

"I love you, Amber..."

"And I love you, Jeffie..."

Once again, their lips locked, tongues dancing in a show of lurid anticipation.

"Same as always. I take Ol' Reliable you take Fluffy" Jeff began, pulling away as he pulled a gunmetal ultra ball from his right pocket and a 45 caliber from his left. "I'll handle the staff, you make sure bystanders don't get in my way."

"With pleasure..."

And with that, the hum and bustle of Viridian Center screeched to a dead halt as twin flashes of red light illuminated the atrium.

_BANG!BANG! _

From atop the what could only be described as the tasteless bastardization of a snapping turtle, a triceratops, and a battleship - Aggron, as it was formally called-a man fired two shots into the ceiling.

"Everybody relax, this is a robbery!"

Silence, bubbled away to nothing by the low growl of the skull dog Houndoom crescendo'ing upward as it padded threateningly about the foyer on the heels of an Auburn-haired beauty. "Any of you worthless shits even _move_, and I'll roast each and every last one of you..."

* * *

Yo,

So yeah, I wanted to make a crime-centered Pokemon story with a more realistic, mature feel. Yes, this piece was largely inspired by _Pulp Fiction_, but hopefully it managed to stay original enough to be enjoyable. Thanks for reading, and let me know if I should continue!

Best,

**Nucleophile**


End file.
